The Burnt out Candle
by Scarlet Secret
Summary: And everybody gathered to say a farewell to the final Martyr.
1. Death of a Hero

_"And I would have liked to know you, _

_But I was just a kid, _

_Your candle burnt out long before, _

_Your legend ever did."_  
  
It was a cold, windy Autumn day when they buried the Potters, the day they held a memorial for Sirius Black it was the middle of summer and the sun was shining down upon their grief, but the day they buried Constance Black, or Hardbroom, as she was known to Cackles Academy, the rain beat down upon the pavement like it was cleansing away the blood of the war.  
  
The last of the Potters had defeated the Dark Lord for the final time not a week ago, they had thought they were safe from the evil, they had been careless and Constance had been the unfortunate one. She was the last victim of the legacy of Tom Riddle.  
  
Albus Dumbledore had finally allowed her to come home to the Wizarding world and she had revealed herself to the staff and students, all of whom had been understanding and amazed at how happy the once so sullen Deputy- Head had become. Except one.  
  
Ethel Hallow had not meant harm, she had simply written to her family asking who the Black family were, she had heard of them, but wanted to know more. Her mother was Lucretia Hallow...who had once been Lucretia Malfoy.  
  
The woman had informed her brother and in a last frenzied rampage before they all faced the Dementors the remaining Death Eaters had flown to Cackles Academy. They hadn't counted on the rest of the Order being present as an escort.  
  
When the Order had arrived they had thought it a joke that they were escorting Constance, and she had joined in the humour, introducing them to her colleagues and favourite pupils. She had hugged Harry and told him not to be afraid of her, mad middle-aged woman as she was, that she was just excited to see him again. He had laughed.  
  
Then the doors burst open. Running in on a large group of Order of the Phoenix members was not what the Death Eaters had planned to do, but it was what happened. They had not stood a chance. All of them were captured and Moody even broke his rule of never killing when one of them tried Avada Kedavra on a student.  
  
But Constance had been unfortunate, she had knocked two of the girls out the way and took the killing curse Lucius Malfoy had sent for them. The Order had not noticed so enraptured were they in their final victory, but the girls on whom her body was lying noticed.  
  
Only Mildred Hubble's scream alerted the Order that the woman was dead and Minerva was the first to reach the body. She didn't believe it, Constance had just been knocked out. It was somewhat her forte, when they were younger she was always the first to get hit by a Stunner.  
  
But there was no pulse and the body was heavy on Mildred and Enid.


	2. WarmUp Show

There were many people there. The staff of Cackles were surprised at how many friends Constance had, but they all packed into Restfield cemetery to say goodbye to the woman.  
  
Imogine never felt more intimidated in her life, everybody here was a witch or wizard, they had their own language and their own world, of which she knew nothing. Even Davina managed to mingle outside the church; she hugged a woman who looked just as batty as her. She wore many shawls and huge spectacles, but still she was more powerful that Imogine. And yet everybody she passed gave her a warm smile.  
  
The warmth of the people outside could not mask the cold inside. They were all forced inside when the rain began to fall, Constance's final trick, she wanted them to at least admit that she was...  
  
If she had been there she would have no doubt told them all they were being silly with their depression and black clothes, then she would have vanished, completely unaware of the irony.  
  
The girls from the Academy were here, not all of them, but the ones Constance would have wanted at her fun-...  
  
Mildred was here, of course, she couldn't not be. Enid was following her with her face set in such a mould that she was battling the tears, forcing them to stay back. Fenny and Gris, about to enter their first year of Wierdsister College, entered the church, looking more sullen then Imogine had ever seen them.  
  
She noted with a tiny spec of happiness that Ethel had not dared show her face. She couldn't really fully blame the girl...but she had to blame someone. Anyone.  
  
The first three rows were taken up by the witches and wizards who had been there, they who hadn't been able to protect Constance. Davina excused herself from the other two briefly to go and talk to one or two of them. She hugged a tall, black hared woman, who Imogine, for a brief moment of hope believed could be Constance, but it was silly, Constance was in that box...  
  
Then she began speaking to a redheaded woman, surrounded by pale boys and one sobbing girl, Davina hugged both the girl and the woman.  
  
_Is she everybody's touching stone.?_  
  
A man and woman both with brown hair, both with silver streaks were sitting side by side and their features suggested that they were related rather that married. A black-hared woman sat by their side and a blonde woman beyond her and a woman with hazel hair next to her. The rest of that row was empty, they were all together.  
  
The man had been amongst the Order, but she could even begin to try and remember his name.  
  
The black-hared woman at the front was next to the batty looking woman and her head rested on the blond witch's shoulder from time to time. A man with grey scraggily hair was sitting next to the blonde witch and next to him a woman with silver spiky hair and, when she turned around, yellow eyes.  
  
A man with a long beard and even longer hair, both of which were silver, sat at the end of their row, dressed in midnight-blue robes, looking tired and grief-filled.  
  
There were teenagers sitting in one row behind the Order, the black-hared boy the Death Eaters had been after and several others. But none of them had known her.  
  
The doors opened and every eye turned upon the woman who had just entered. All of them were muttering quickly, even Amelia was talking to a wizard behind her, Imogine had never felt so out of the loop, luckily for her Davina returned to her seat not long after the woman entered.  
  
"The nerve of that woman."  
  
"Who is she.?" Davina gave her an amazed look before coming to her senses and realising there was no possible way Imogine could know.  
  
"That is Narcissa Malfoy. She was married to Lucius Malfoy, the brother of..."  
  
"Lucretia Hallow."  
  
"She's Constance's sister. Or she was."  
  
Narcissa Malfoy walked with her head down to a seat at the back and she was followed by two large and powerful, official-looking men, each of whom were chained to another woman. A black-hared woman, who looked suspiciously like the woman who was supposed to be d-...  
  
If Narcissa had been unwelcome, this woman was lucky she had guards. Every Order of the Phoenix member stood up and the man who was sitting in the group of woman looked ready to eat her alive, his eyes were alight with that kind of malice. His sister looked at him and then at the woman and understood. Her eyes also looked luminous and Imogine would have sworn they turned bright green.  
  
The old man with the grey hair stood and the woman was led to the front of the church, where she was sat on the row to the left of the old man. His companions on the right did not look happy. The black-hared witch in particular.  
  
"Albus, what do you think you are doing, letting HER come here.?"  
  
"She wishes to say goodbye to her sister, we can allow her that surely.?"  
  
The woman spoke, and it was with a cracked, dying voice.  
  
"Professor McGonagall, I will do nobody any harm. Least of all Constance, I didn't know. I wasn't there."  
  
Professor McGonagall fumed but allowed the blond witch to pull her back into her seat gently. The doors opened again. Another black-hared witch.  
  
_How many sisters has Constance got anyway.?_  
  
A young woman with long brown hair, who was hunching and seemed to be resisting tears, much like Enid, accompanied this one. They walked over to the woman with red hair and sat behind her and her boys.  
  
The doors again. _Not another one surely.?  
_  
This time it was a man. A tall, pale, black-hared man who looked amazingly familiar to Imogine. He moved slowly through the church and he was the first one she had seen who wasn't trying to stop their tears.  
  
He sat down in the front row, next to the woman no one wanted and stared fixedly ahead.  
  
Then the service began. 


	3. Life of the Party

Of all the things she had thought she would do in her life, speaking at her friends funeral had been very far down the list, but speaking in front of an ensemble or witches and wizards was another thing all together.  
  
She stood and moved to the front of the church, every eye was upon her...that reminded her of something Constance had once said – but what.? Doesn't matter.  
  
Imogene scanned her eyes over the people there from her position behind the podium, they were all looking confused as to who she was.  
  
"My name in Imogene Drill and I am a teacher at the school Constance taught at for a long time. She's been there for as long as I can remember, and I know her presence will stay long after she is gone.  
  
She was the best teacher I have ever known, but I'm sure that's not what you're interested in. I know many of you were unaware of her whereabouts, what she was doing or whom she was with. But we looked after her for you. Between us all we kept her going, when it was obvious she wanted nothing more than to leave, we were the ones who kept her there and stable.  
  
All the years I knew her she seemed to have something missing, or someone, but only now do I realise it was all you people. She didn't hate us, but she wanted you...and I don't think we were enough. I could take a guess at what she was like before she came to us, but I won't ask, I'd rather live with my image.  
  
She was hardly the life of the party – but she was the heart of it. I don't know what we'll do without her. Do you.?"  
  
Leaving it at that she sat down. Wishing she knew the answer to her own question. 


	4. Worth the Price

The blonde woman that everybody reviled stood up now. A few people looked around and shook their heads in disgust but she walked unmoved to the front.  
  
"I know many of you believe I have no right to be here, but I have more right than most of you, I was her sister after all.  
  
I was the weakest of all of us. Andromeda..." She gestured to the black- haired witch behind the redheaded woman. "...you got free. Constance refused to take the families rules without a fight, which she won, by the way." A few people smiled, then remembered not to.  
  
"Bellatrix..." She pointed at the ragged woman with the guards. "Even though your actual actions were wrong you still did what you believed in. But I...I suppose now the Dark Lord is well and truly gone, I can speak freely. I was a spy."  
  
The silence that followed this statement was deafening, even Imogene, completely uneducated to the wizarding world could guess what this meant to everybody.  
  
"I did awful things because I was to afraid to say no to my husband, then I reached breaking point and remembered what my sisters had done when they reached it. So I came to Dumbledore. I was the spy nobody knew. I tried to let Albus know the Death Eaters were travelling to Cackle's Academy, but I was too late. I also kept Lily and James safe when the Dark Lord was determined to kill them. I did a great job didn't I.?  
  
And now I can't even attend my own sister's funeral without everybody whispering and hating me. Do you think it was worth it.?"  
  
She moved away from the podium and the ragged woman called Bellatrix stood up and tried to say something to her sister. But her other sister got their first.  
  
"Sit down Bella." The tone and eyes of her sister were enough to put Bellatrix back into her seat.  
  
Nobody looked at Narcissa Malfoy as she returned to her seat. 


	5. Cold Comfort

Imogene had not expected any of the girls to talk perhaps it was too much for them, on the other hand, it was nice to see a friendly face, even if it was grieving. Enid stood from her seat and moved to the confused looks of most people present to the stand, looking a mixture of nervous and resolute.  
  
"I am one of the students at the school she taught at and Miss Drill was right, she was an amazing teacher. We all knew that, but we didn't know her. We all knew she had faith in us though, no matter how difficult some of us got, she still remained staunch that we would be the best.  
  
Everybody but me knew her as Miss Hardbroom, I don't know where she came up with that name, but her real one suits her better. I only found it out this year. I knew her best at the school.  
  
I didn't know her nearly as well as I would have liked to, none of the students really did, but then again I don't think many of the students were particularly desperate to get to know her, but I was.  
  
In the last year she meant more to me then anybody else in the world -she helped me through some really hard times and I'm grateful for that, and I'd like to think that I helped her, she certainly told me so.  
  
When she fell to the floor after being hit by that spell I grabbed her hand. She squeezed back.  
  
Please don't believe she was in any kind of pain, she was content and when she felt my hand she opened her eyes and saw me. Then she smiled. I'm glad I was able to offer some kind of comfort to her, I think she was happy.  
  
Not that she was dying – but she was happy with what she had done in life. For what I did know she was an extraordinary person, and I won't let anybody say otherwise."  
  
As she sat down she walked past the weeping black-haired witch in the front row and the older woman smiled at her in thanks. 


	6. More Than Friends, Less Than Lovers

The man sitting with the women stood up and his sister fumbled for his hand before he began to walk to what might have been his doom, by the look on his face.  
  
"Have you ever had that feeling that half of you was missing.? If you have you deserve a medal for getting through it, if this is what it feels like.  
  
I suppose I wasn't the best friend I could have been. Minerva saved her from depression and Severus gave her the love she needed. I couldn't do either of these things, god knows I tried but I wasn't best suited for the job and I felt completely helpless.  
  
I usually felt like that when Constance was around, but in the sense that I was a different person when she was with me. She was one of the few who overlooked the fact that I was a werewolf and she helped me keep my sanity in a world that nobody accepted me in.  
  
She was my first friend when I was young and in our childhood she entertained my sister and me all summer with stories of princesses in towers. She heard them at her school and they were strictly contraband should her family find out she knew muggle stories.  
  
I didn't see her for clumps of years at a time, but every time she came back it was as though she had never been gone. There are few people in the world who will accept you indefinitely and not ask anything in return.  
  
When she did need my help I tried but the kind of love she needed I couldn't give her. People told me we looked good together, but they were just talking nonsense. We weren't that kind of couple.  
  
We were much more than friends, but less than lovers. We were the next step down and nobody but us understood that. And now there's just me. I'm the last surviving original Marauder and now I've lost my spirit, but I have to carry on – with something only she accepted me for and the guilt of what I should have done but couldn't." 


	7. The First Thing

As the man returned to his seat the doors at the back of the church were thrown open to admit a woman Imogene had hoped she would never have to see again and was most definitely not welcome here.  
  
Heckity Broomhead strode to the front of the church with disgusted eyes upon her – and half of these people couldn't have known who she was, it was just out of pure hate for the disrespect she was showing and not caring about.  
  
She reached the podium and turned around, showing yellow teeth to the whole room. Even the two women the larger community hadn't wanted were forgotten as they joined in with the glaring. In fact, Imogene was sure, should the woman called Bellatrix in the front row lunge for Broomhead her guards wouldn't stop her. And she looked very close to doing just that.  
  
"I am happy to say that I knew Constance the best out of every body here, she spent years in my excellent care and I know she remembered those years for all her life.  
  
I tried into make her into the best possible person and I believe I succeeded well, I always thought she was an adequate witch, but to have survived so long in the war...well it is no wonder she was the one they sent away, apparently not for long enough.  
  
It was always my opinion that she never fully reached her potential and I should know, the years I spent with her. You tried to protect her, but she never did listen. She brought it upon herself."  
  
With her final proclamation Broomhead sauntered to a seat behind the fuming redhead, who stood the second the older woman sat.  
  
"I know it's somebody else's turn to speak about Constance, but I can't in good conscience not say my piece."  
  
Nobody spoke up against her as she moved to the front.  
  
"You say you knew Constance better than any of us, well I say that this man knew more about her than you even guessed."  
  
She gestured to the man Imogene thought looked like Constance.  
  
"You're Mistress Broomhead aren't you.? Constance told us all about you. I'll bet you couldn't tell me the first thing about her. What's her favourite colour.? What are her sisters called.? When's her birthday.?"  
  
Broomhead couldn't answer.

"I'm sure anybody in this room could tell you the answer to those questions and the ones who were even closer to Constance can tell you why those questions spring to mind.

I'm sure they remember her 21st birthday, the only one with all her sisters, Andromeda, Bellatrix and Narcissa, and her friends there. We held it at my house because I was heavily pregnant and couldn't move very far, but Constance insisted I was there. On the 1st April we decorated the place with every shade of red we could find and she cried when she saw what we had done for her. Whatever it was you did to her, we healed it and you have no right to be here."

And the redhead sat down, and the second the younger woman sat Broomhead left.


	8. Saving a Daughter

Much to Imogene's surprise the black-haired woman who had argued about Bellatrix's presence stood up and walked to the podium. Her face was deathly pale and still looked wet from crying, but she looked determinedly around the crowd.  
  
"This should be the other way around. I should be in this box waiting to be buried and she should be standing here talking about the great deeds I did in my long life.  
  
She wouldn't have much to say to tell the truth...not nearly as much as I do, but that's the way it is. I had a long life with very few major accomplishments and her life was cut short – but she was better than death, always has been.  
  
The only thing I can claim as a great deed was saving Constance the first time, when she came back from that woman's academy she was empty, she had been pushed down to the floor. All she needed was a hand up. And I will always be proud it was I that helped her.  
  
Her family is somewhat unusual, they always have been, but for an unexplained reason Constance was the one that always felt left out. She explained all this to me the same night she got her heart back. I gave her the love she wanted. Not romantic, but motherly.  
  
She had never been taken care of before I found her. She was more to me than a student or a friend. She was my daughter.  
  
And no mother should be speaking at her own child's funeral." 


	9. Lost Light

The man who Imogene thought looked so much like Constance was the first person to break the silence by moving to the podium for his speech.  
  
"As you all know this war has been long and brutal for everybody, but I kept going, in one of the hardest and most dangerous positions, I kept going for one person.  
  
Not Dumbledore and most definitely not for the boy-who-lived. But for her. It was an extremely dark path, that which I trod, and she, as cliché as it sounds, was my light at the end of the darkness.  
  
She was what I focussed on when I was doing the deeds I did."  
  
He rolled up his sleeve.  
  
"She was the reason I had this godforsaken mark emblazoned upon my skin. Even though some of you may find it hard to believe – I am not the epitome of evil. I did it for love.  
  
For the love of a good woman. For the love of a strong, beautiful woman who never once backed down form her duties. She came through so much, so many people were rooting for her to fail – but she didn't listen.  
  
She made it through the storm and was a sensational person. And the light never dimmed throughout the war and we all thought she'd be back. But her light went out and now it will never come back. And neither will she.  
  
The darkness is gone but so is the light. And I don't know where to go from here. The light was my direction and now I'm lost."  
  
_Do not stand at my grave and weep,  
I am not there; I do not sleep.  
I am the thousand winds that blow,  
I am the diamonds glint on snow.  
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,  
I am the gentle Autumn rain.  
When you awaken in the morning hush,  
I am the swift uplifting rush.  
Of quiet birds in circled flight,  
I am the soft stars that shine at night.  
Do not stand at my grave and cry,  
I am not there; I did not die._


End file.
